That Local Place

I can imagine something akin to Abbott & Costello’s “Who’s On First” sketch when telling someone where we went for breakfast this morning.

“What’s it’s name?”

“It’s Local.”

“Right. But what’s it called?”

“The Local place?”


“It’s Local.”


Previously the Eastside Mercantile shop, Susan and I have been anticipating Local’s opening for weeks, and while I can definitely say we’re happy to have a new eatery in our immediate vicinity, I can’t say we’ll happily return for anything more than just coffees and a shared somethin’.

The meals we had were great, the staff very friendly, the decor nice and ambiance wonderful (except for the place feeling the need to sounddrown a subtle Sunday morning with unnecessary and too loud music), but the place is pricey. I had the braised pork belly, two eggs and home fries ($13), Susan had some fancy-named sausage, two eggs, and home fries ($13). Beverages brought the total up over the $40 mark.

For breakfast? Yeesh! And the rest of the offerings aren’t much cheaper. A bareback Belgian waffle is $7. French toast is $9 — $11 if you want yours with fruit and yogurt.

Fortunate the bonus floorshow — in the form of the bicycling portion of the L.A. Triathalon was free, and as Susan and I enjoyed our first and what may be our last meal at Local, we also had fun watching cyclists of all shapes, sizes and rides zip along a traffic-free, bikes only Sunset Boulevard.